


Sign of the Royal Swan

by miscreant_rose



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, CS AU, Captain Swan AU - Freeform, Colonial era, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:44:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscreant_rose/pseuds/miscreant_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a tumbler prompt of "Captain Swan, Colonial Times."  Most likely to be continued...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sign of the Royal Swan

He wasn’t sure what it was that had drawn him to stop at this particular tavern, high on the hill over the harbor. A bright new sign, the gold leaf of the crown that encircled the neck of the pristine white swan still glinting in the late fall setting sun. It was certainly too new and well mannered, not his usual more smokey, well-worn and familiar tap room but a short stroll from the docks. Still, he had a view through the bare branches of trees standing ready for winter down to the icy blue water of the harbor and the collection of vessels at mooring. A king’s view of this port, really, and as unlikely as it was for him, he’d enjoy it for a moment or two.

And after all, hadn’t he just handed over the bill of his cargo — and that of the two other ships he and his crew had taken — to a very surprised and pleased magistrate, not to mention the crisp new commission complete with seal of the colony’s governor, guaranteeing him another year of freedom to haul in whatever supplies he might come across on his voyages and help support the ever-growing wealth of such a booming city.

Captain Killian Jones was once more the most valued privateer of Aquidneck Island, and it was a long overdue homecoming, certainly worthy of a bit of fine celebrating.

But as his gaze followed the figure in the scarlet skirt as she moved around the tap room, watching as she sat from time to time to talk with the other customers and boarders, he knew the real reason he was more than pleased to stay here for a night or perhaps longer. The lovely blonde with uncapped hair that curled in loose tendrils around her face, and the other dark-haired lass in the blue were more than the usual sight at the White Horse. Far from the perhaps a bit too well worn doxy to be found in those dark corners. He wondered suddenly if his navy coat wasn’t looking a bit too threadbare, the gold stitching a bit too worn.

“Jones, I heard you were back today.”

Dragging his gaze from its current buxom distraction, Killian smiled as Captain David Nolan settled in in the chair across from him and stretched his legs out long as he gave Jones a wide grin.

“Bit more delayed than I expected, but the rumors are true.”

Nolan chuckled, nodding to the dark-haired lass who caught his eye as she stepped behind the bars. “Does the Jolly Roger look as battered as you do?”

Killian winced, his gaze flicking down to the wharves where he could see his fairest prize and true home tied in for what was to be a long winter of repairs after one too many storms, and a dozen too many canon hits. It wasn’t too far off the mark to say he felt a bit the same way. It had been well over a year he was gone, a year of not all prizes collected for the colony, and yet he still felt as hollow as when he had left. Time was marching by, and still he was frozen at the events five years ago when his life had changed, shattered around him like the splinters of a wooden hull as it met iron.

The thud of a pewter tankard on to the table in front of him stirred him from his thoughts and he pulled out his best sly smile for the lass with the long dark braid over her shoulder, and cinnamon-brown eyes that met his with an almost feral glee. Despite his predilection and weakness for brunettes, part of him was keenly aware of where the other serving lass was in the room and her every movement. He couldn’t shake the pull of her, like some sea-siren of songs, even now looking past this bonny face to find the other.

“Ah, Ruby, you are a gem,” Nolan lifted his own tankard with a salute to Killian. “A well met to you, Captain, with the best ale on the hill.”

Killian, lifted his own tankard, but was still too distracted, to unsettled to register the bite of the hops on his tongue. “Too fine an establishment for me, I’m sure.”

Nolan barked out a laugh at that. “Time you recognized your own status, Jones, and venture beyond your usual haunts.” The other man gave Killian a hard stare. “If you are wintering over, when can we expect you to re-build that house of yours?”

“When I have reason to,” Killian snapped, sharper than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. The fire that had razed that structure years ago was still too fresh, making him wince and swig down a large swallow of the ale in front of him, wishing it were something stronger to numb the scar Nolan had to go and poke. Once again, he reminded himself for all the ties and monetary rewards, Newport remained nothing but another port for him, and the sea his home. He needed no grand house among the rising city elite to hold some mock rank for him.

“New recruits for me, David?”

The female voice jarred Killian from his thoughts, and he glanced up to find forrest green eyes focused on him as the pretty blond in the crimson was standing next to Nolan. Pretty, hell, she was something more than that, closest thing to some angelic ideal sent to walk among mortals he had ever seen. Mouth was suddenly dry, all he could do was stare back in return, hoping that the rosy blush he saw rising in her skin was from something other than the heat of the hearth.

“Jones?”

David’s kick to his shin jarred him out of his distraction, and he realized he had heard nothing the other man had had answered to this ethereal creature. Summoning up his most devastating smile, Killian cocked his eyebrow, determined he would win this fine lass over.

“Captain Jones, at your service.” His drawl seemed to create an odd rush to the air between them, and he knew then the hunt was on.

A fair brow arched upward in what he found himself hoping was a favorable regard, but the tone that met his dashed that idea. “Pirates, David?” He eyes flicked over Killian’s threadbare coat and and she glanced back at his companion, who she certainly seemed too familiar with. “You know the reputation I want here.”

“The term is privateer, love,” Killian said, before Nolan could answer. “Backbone of our lovely economy here, if I may point out. I’m surprised a wench such as yourself would look down on the boon such acquaintance could bring.”

That rosy hue to her cheeks darkened suddenly, and those green eyes flashed like a storm at sea. “First off, I’m no wench, Captain,” her voice dripped contempt at his title, “and second off, I have every right to choose the clientele of my establishment. I tend to not welcome those who think that their coin can purchase anything in a skirt to go along with their ale.”

“Mistress Swan, the Captain here only –“

Too late Killian heard the title on Nolan’s tongue and felt his face flush with his crude mistake. His own anger simmered to the surface as he cut off his companion’s attempt to excuse him. “What Captain Nolan is trying to say, mistress, is that pirates such as myself are too long without the reform and guidance of decent society such as yourself. I should have known better than to assume I could be welcome at a door so high above the docks. I give you my word, as little as it might be worth to you, that I won’t make the mistake again.”

He was reaching into his pocket to drop several coin on the table as he pushed himself out of his chair. Nolan was quick to his feet as well, trying to halt Killian’s hasty exit.

“Jones, that is hardly what I meant,” but as he turned to stop this Mistress Swan, she had already made her way back to the door the tap room, pausing only to toss a single angry glance back over her shoulder.

“No worries, Nolan. As I said, far too fine an establishment for me.”

“Killian, wait.” The other man ruffled a hand through his hair with an exasperated sigh. “Mary Margaret will not forgive me if you don’t join us for dinner this evening. And I’m sure she can smooth things over with Emma. She,” he hesitated, glancing back to where the door had slammed, “she’s had a very different experience when it comes to privateers, and is still trying to get settled here.”

Killian clenched his jaw, still not meeting the other man’s gaze. “Sounds as though you know her a bit too well.”

He couldn’t miss the puzzled look on the other man’s face. “Did you hear nothing I said on introducing you? How can I not know my own sister-in-law.”


End file.
